When we hurt the ones we love,[And it's a place I can not go,]

[Do you listen to your partner?]

Co-written with stillacrime and whattingawhat


Buffy had gone for a run. It wasn't that she wanted to run so much as she just needed to get out of the house. She walked back in, shutting and locking the door behind her. She had pretzels with her. "Hey, Boyfriend, I'm home!" she yelled as she walked to the kitchen and snagged a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge. Danny was still in bed despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. She knew he was depressed and her attitude lately hadn't helped much. She figured it was about time they talk about that because things were just going to get worse and that was something they definitely didn't need. She toe-heeled her tennis shoes off and walked into the bedroom, juggling pretzels, mustard, marinara sauce and beer.

"How you feeling?" she asked him as she sat down on the edge of the bed near him, folding one leg up underneath her. She popped the top off on the beer and put the bottle on the nightstand. The other got tucked in the crook of her knee and she offered a pretzel to him. "I thought we could both use pretzels with salt and beer."

Wincing just a little, Danny pushed himself up slightly so he could lean back against the headboard in a half-sitting position. He had been in a very bad head space and only getting worse. He was set to at least get back in the lab next week but the lab wasn't the problem. The problem was that Buffy was avoiding him, something that was magnified because she was doing it while they were living in the same apartment.

"M'alright." He answered, pulling one of the blankets up to let it pool at his waist. He still hurt, would probably hurt for awhile. Emotionally, he was low. But he wanted to be alright so badly that it was just an easier answer than the truth. He took the pretzel and eyed one of the small tubs of marinara dipping sauce.

"Right," Buffy nodded as she handed him some of the marinara. She tore open one of the mustard packets with her teeth to slather on her pretzel. "I never thought you'd be taciturn guy," she said as she gave him a half hearted smile. She took a bite of her pretzel, chewed it and then took a long sip of her beer. "We're not alright right now, are we? I mean...I feel like I'm holding my breath waiting for you to walk away. Or pack my shoes and leave them out in the hall. You know, whatever."

In truth she felt the way she had her senior year of high school, knowing the end was coming but not knowing when.

"That's funny, y'know? Cause I'm waitin' for you to just do physically whatever's goin' on with you in that head of yours and leave." And he suddenly wasn't hungry. He set the pretzel and the marinara sauce down and badly wanted a cigarette. Instead, since his movement was limited, he crossed his arms over his bandaged torso. "You've been closin' off and pullin' away from me since I woke up in the hospital. I tried for awhile but I finally just let you be. I mean you gotta do what you gotta do for you. I get it."

But he didn't really get it. He shrugged. his shoulders lifting just slightly. "So what, are you done with me? You can just tell me. I can take it." He really couldn't, but he already felt like he had lost her emotionally already. And that was hard since he was already low and emotional himself. In a sense, he had been traumatized and now he was bracing himself for an even harder blow than anything Fred Hirsch could have dealt.

"No," Buffy said sharply, her brow furrowing. She shook her head for emphasis. "No, I'm not 'done' with you." She set her pretzel aside with a sigh and took another drink of her beer. She reached up and undid her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. "It's...not your fault," she said as she ran a hand back through her hair and then twisted her beer bottle in her hands. "That I've been pulling away. I just-you're so very human and I'm not. You're breakable. You have no idea how breakable and-I'm afraid by touching you I'm going to hurt you. I don't want to put you in anymore pain." She sighed and pulled both her feet underneath her, straightening her back as she glanced over at him. She knew this tension between them had been hard on him but she hadn't thought that he'd misread it so. Of course at the same time, she wasn't sure how he was supposed to read her pulling away.

"I haven't even considered leaving you."

It took him a few moments to digest all of that. The silence drug out until finally he just shook his head and smirked. "So you're doin' to me because I'm human what you were afraid I would do to you because you're a Slayer? I stuck with you. I believe in you. I don't always get it, but I'm with you. I can't not be who and what I am. Can't not be human." He shook his head, his brow creasing as he continued to try to figure out how he could fix this. "Where's the fair in this?"

"Fair? There's no such thing as fair," Buffy said abruptly. "There is nothing in my entire life that's fair and if you think about it, I bet there's not a whole lot in your life that's fair either." She paused and shook her head then stared down at the floor. She needed to sweep in here and mop. "When I found you they had hurt you so bad and then-I don't want to break you and I could. I don't want to be like them."

"You have never hurt me." Danny answered quickly, punctuating each word. He shook his head briskly. "Until now. And I thought we were pretty damn fair. You and me. This should be fair. Wasn't I fair to you?"

Of course he had to make this logical and he had to bring out all the things that make sense and right now she wanted to snap at him and lash out. It was an entirely illogical response to an entirely logical argument but it was also wholly emotional and exactly the way Buffy worked. Instead of hauling off and hitting him, she stood up and started pacing the room, pulling her hair back and knotting it tightly again. She pulled so hard it made her head ache a little.

"You were fair to me," she admitted. "But you can't break me just by squeezing too hard. And I'm not trying to be unfair to you, Danny. I'm trying-I don' t know what I'm trying to do. I know we're falling apart and I don't want us to fall apart. I don't know how to stop it. I don't know how to stop being afraid of hurting you and I don't know anything because I can lead an army and I can beat the crap out of anything I come up against but I'm a hopeless, epic fail at figuring out how the hell relationships are supposed to work."

She stopped pacing and looked at Danny. "So tell me, how do we fix this?"

He sighed when she physically pulled away again and watched her pace. He listened, feeling the tension and the unraveling sensation that this situation had taken on. "You just do it, Summers. You wanna fix somethin' you just do it... one step at a time until you're back where you wanna be. Do you wanna fix it?"

She glanced over at him and nodded as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Yeah, I want to fix it." She bit her bottom lip, trapping words behind her teeth. She wanted to forget how fragile he was. She wanted to pretend she'd never seen him that way and she couldn't say that because it wasn't fair to him. He couldn't help being fragile anymore than she could help being a freak. "I love you. You know that."

"Yeah but do you love me enough to quit standin' over there, come over here, and get close to me?" Danny asked pointedly. "You keep goin' away. Come here."

Buffy took a step over to Danny, swallowing hard as she did. Her furrowed her brow as she moved closer until her knees were pressed against the bed. "What if I hurt you? You're still on pain medication and you're still bandaged up-" she stopped, biting her bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. Her voice was choked with concern and she wore worry around her eyes like spectacles. Since Danny had been hurt, she'd lost a lot of weight and her eyes were shadowed with deep purple smudges. She looked as fragile as he did but with her, it was an illusion.

"Shut up, Summers." He shook his head again. "You bein' with me the way we're supposed to be together is bigger than any hurt. Just shut up and come here. You wanna fix somethin' you just do it." And it would physically hurt him so much more to come to her... but he strained and pushed away from the headboard. He scooted to the edge of the bed, already out of breath as he reached for her hand and tugged. "Come on, Sunshine. Come over here and sit with me."

And immediately she felt guilty for making him move over to her so when he grabbed her hand and tugged her down to sit next to him, she went without any protest. She sat close to him, not quite touching him. After another moment's hesitation she sighed and leaned so that her shoulder was brushing his and her head was resting on his shoulder. "I don't want to go away and I don't want us to change. If I ever hurt you, you'd tell me, right?"

"If it was worth mentionin', sure." His torso ached, but he wrapped his arms around her anyway and pulled her close. There wasn't any way around hurting right now. But if he could keep her close, he would. "Just don't keep goin' away from me. I can't do anything if you go away."

Buffy ducked her head, tucking her face into the crook of his neck and wrapping her arms lightly around him. "I warned you I was difficult," she said quietly, her breath warm against his skin. "I'm trying to protect you and the only way I know how to protect you from me, is pull away. I'm sorry." It wasn't going to go away this easily and she'd probably still treat him like glass for a while but she knew she couldn't push him away like this or she was going to end up hurting both of them. They just had to listen and work together.

"Yeah, yeah Summers." Danny whispered. "Maybe I'm okay with difficult."

You may think that Im out of hand [That Im naive, I'll understand]

[I should have…]

“Let’s talk about regrets this week,” the therapist says, folder perched on her knee, coffee cup at hand. “What are some of your should have’s.”

“My what?” Buffy asks, stalling for time more than anything. Her brain is already clicking, cataloguing all of the things she wished she’d done differently, all the things she should have done. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The therapist gives her a soft smile and tilts her head. “Buffy, I’ve talked to many of the other slayers and I’ve read a great many more slayer diaries. You don’t get to where you are without occasionally saying to yourself ‘I should have…’ a few times.”

“And you think because you’ve talked to some slayers and read some diaries you know ‘where’ I’m at?” Buffy snaps back at her. She hates the weekly therapy sessions and she’s cranky right now anyway. She’s not sleeping, she’s not eating and she’s slaying more than should be healthy.

“I didn’t mean to imply that,” the therapist backpeddles. She knows with Buffy she can only push things so far. The senior slayer has very little tolerance when talking about her slaying and what it’s done to her.

“What did you mean to imply then?” Buffy asks, one eyebrow arching up as she crosses her arms over her chest and levels a stare at the woman.

“I-I just meant that surely you’ve got regrets, remorse; things you look back on and say I should have done this differently or that some other way.” The woman takes a sip of her coffee, putting it back on the table before looking up at Buffy again.

“So what? You want me to talk about all the times I should have been faster, stronger, better. Or maybe you’d like for me to be more specific and say I should have killed Angelus when I first realized who he was. I should have let Angel die of poison. I should have hugged Faith more. I should have told Riley not to leave. I should have made my mother go to the doctor more often. I should have watched Dawn better. I should have found another way to stop the First Evil.” She stops and takes a deep breath. Her body language, voice and words are hostile. Her arms are still crossed over her chest, her head tilted and her eyes hard. “You see, I could do this all day long. I’m a slayer. I was The Slayer for a long time. I’ve been doing this for eleven years which means there are a lot of should have’s in my life.”

“And how do you deal with that?” the therapist asks, her courage obviously regained.

Buffy bites her bottom lip and leans forward, her elbows going to her knees. She considers the question a moment. The hostility is still there, written in her bones and the lines on her face but it’s reasonably dormant for now. “Have you ever seen Dr. Who? You know the new one with Ten and Nine?” She doesn’t wait for the therapist to answer. “There’s this whole theory and maybe it’s not just theirs but anyway time isn’t a straight line. It’s this wibbly wobbly ball of something, like a knotted up ball of string. The point is, everything is all tied together. If I change one of my should have’s, maybe I change everything. I like my life right now. Dawn is safe, relatively happy, possibly dating a vampire but at least he’s got a soul. I’m happy and hey look, the world didn’t end. Any of the dozen times I saved it. Including the time I made the slayer army. So, basically, I don’t think about my should have’s. I think that I made the right decision, regardless of what the outcome was because the world is alright today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll think about things differently.”

“That’s…” the therapist starts and stops.

“Surprisingly well adjusted. I know,” Buffy smirks. She leans back against the couch and smoothes her hands over her hair. She glances up at the clock then back at the therapist.

“Is there one you’d change, assuming it wouldn’t upset the time continuum.”

Buffy rolls her eyes and sighs. “Yeah, the one that goes ‘I should have kicked your ass the first session because maybe then you’d leave me alone’.”